Into the Shadows
by sofa356
Summary: After being whisked away from their ordinary lives, Emma and Sophie are torn by two sides of Peter: a boy-demon and a kind friend.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! Thanks so much for checking out our story! My friend, Emma, and I will be switching off points of view for this story-probably every other chapter. We hope you guys like it!:)**

**So we both really like Once Upon a Time and really wish they kept Peter alive for the rest of Season 3 (hopefully he'll come back at some point!) We really like Pan's character and wanted to write a fic about it...so here it is!:)**

**There will be lots of intense stuff and fluff later on...:)**

**We don't own any Once Upon a Time characters or the setting of Neverland!**

**All reviews, follows, or favorites are greatly appreciated and we will love you forever and ever:)**

**Thanks so much!**

Sophie's POV

I rolled over on my side, suddenly unable to get comfortable. My shoulders felt particularly achy, but I ignored it and squeezed my eyes tighter to try to fall back asleep. I hated mornings. I could already feel a headache coming on. I groaned out loud and went to stuff my face into my pillow, but my mouth and nose hit something damp and grassy. I inhaled the scent of moist ground and wet dirt and slowly opened my eyes.

I was sleeping in...dirt. I stared at the green and brown stuff in front of me for a second, and the green and brown stuff almost seemed to stare back at me. Then, my brain clicked on and I shot up like a rocket. I swiped my long brown hair from my face and spat out dirt from my mouth. My heart started pumping as I glanced around frantically, realizing that this was most definitely not my bedroom on a sleepy Sunday morning.

Tall trees surrounded me on all sides, and little rays of sunshine shone through the trees long branches. I gulped down a terrified little squeal, feeling my face get hot as my brain whirled as to why I was in the middle of some forest. Was I kidnapped by some crazy serial killer? Was the crazy serial killer going to jump out of the trees and grab me? Was a bear going to eat my face? My brain whizzed a million miles an hour as paranoia set in. I rubbed my temples as I tried to calm myself down and remember what happened last night. What if somebody gave me some drug and raped me then left me in the forest to die?

My stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots as the possibilities just got worse and worse. Think, Sophie, think. What happened last night? Despite all my struggles, I couldn't remember anything but falling asleep in my sky blue, messy bedroom and waking up on the forest floor. Not helpful.

"Well, hello," An alien voice said calmly from behind me.

Goosebumps immediately formed on my arms and I felt like I was going to puke. I spun on my heel to face the source of the voice. My breath caught in my throat. A boy who looked a little older than me stood a few feet away, leaning on a tree, smirking evilly. And no, that is not an exaggeration. He looked like bad news. He was, admittedly, much taller than I was, and had pretty nice muscles from what I could tell. His wavy light brown hair was swept messily across his forehead. Okay, so the kid was pretty hot. But also creepy. He wore a ragged v-neck shirt of sorts, and dark green pants to match. He looked me up and down and smirked even wider, and I glanced down at myself. Oh, shit. The one time I go to bed with just an oversized t-shirt on, I wind up in a forest in front of a hot guy who may or may not be a serial killer.

My face immediately turned bright red as I tried to pull the t-shirt down to at least my mid thigh. Luckily, it wasn't too short-you couldn't see my butt or anything, but I had no intention of lifting up my arms. I kept one hand pulling down the shirt awkwardly as I addressed the boy in a small voice. "What-where am I?"

The boy flicked up an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Remember? Remember what?"

"Well, you have changed quite a bit. I suppose it's been a while, huh?" The boy cocked his head at me a little. "How old are you now?"

My heart started racing a million miles an hour. I didn't know what to do but answer him. "Six-sixteen."

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It has been a while."

"Been a while? Do we know each other?" I demanded, starting to get more frustrated than scared.

The boy swallowed, almost looking a little sad before his eyes clouded over with cockiness again. "Sophie. It's me, Peter. Peter Pan."

My stomach felt even more uneasy, if that was even possible. "How the hell do you know my name? Peter Pan isn't real. He's a fairy tale!"

"He wasn't always," The boy murmured softly as he took a step closer to me. "Don't you remember, when you were a kid, and you sat by your window in your tiny pink bedroom? On that toybox you had, because you couldn't see the stars if you were sitting on the floor? Don't you remember when you believed so badly, you would wish on the same star every night? You would wish for me to take you away, to make it all better? Sophie-I did. You didn't imagine it when you thought you saw a shadow flutter around your bedroom before you fell asleep. When you swore you could see a yellow glow coming from your vanity's drawer. Sophie-"

"Stop!" I shouted suddenly, something like anger pulsing through my veins. My fingers pressed hard against my temples as I tried to slow my brain down. How did he know all of this? Sure, I had a phase when I was kid. Everybody wished upon a star. I never actually saw Peter Pan's shadow in my bedroom, I never actually flew away with him. I never battled with pirates, I never swam with mermaids. I never held a tiny fairy in my little hands, I never met a strange boy who told me not to grow up. It was impossible.

The boy was so close to me now, I could hear him breathing heavily. "You believed before. Nobody ever truly forgets Neverland."

I stopped staring at the ground and finally got up the courage to look him in the eyes. "If you're really Peter Pan, then...how come you can't fly?"

I figured it was an easy way out. Nobody could actually fly. This was real life, not a fairy tale. I'd given him something he couldn't do, something that would prove he was lying to me and stop that twisted smile of his. Then I could just accept the fact he was insane and stop that little voice in my head that wanted desperately to believe him.

The boy smiled as he pulled out a clear glass tube with a pink cork and spilled some glittery, gold dust into the palm of his hand. I watched him with wide eyes, my brain telling me the kid was crazy but my heart wanting to believe every word he said. He flicked his eyebrows up at me and suddenly blew the gold dust in my face. I spluttered and coughed, an overpowering scent of lilac filling my nostrils. It smelled just like the big lilac bushes that were in my backyard growing up. The ones I would pick for mom and she would put in a pretty vase on the table. The familiar, nostalgic scent made all my fear melt away.

"Think happy thoughts," Peter breathed in my ear. He took my cold hands in his and squeezed them tight when I tried to flinch away.

I glanced at him, flicking up my eyebrows. "Not working, buddy."

"Really?" Peter laughed.

I looked down at the ground, and sure enough, I was at least four feet above it. My bare feet were no longer touching the mossy ground. I gasped out loud. I was flying. Peter chuckled, and I realized he was flying, too. "We're-you're-how-" I began, but Peter cut me off.

"What was it you used to say?" Peter grinned as he mocked a little girls voice. "Faith, trust, and pixie dust?"

I glared daggers at him, but he just chuckled and spun around in the air. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What, love?"

"Um, well, everything. You. Neverland. Me. The fact I'm floating right now? It's all crazy," I folded my arms and refused to take my eyes off him.

"Oh, don't be such a grown up," Peter groaned as he smiled at me.

I scoffed. "Um, in case you haven't noticed, it's a bit late for me to not act like a grown up."

Peter frowned as he pulled my hands from my chest and dragged me up higher from the ground. My stomach did somersaults as I stared at the rapidly shrinking tree tops. I was squeezing his hands so tight, I thought I had broken them.

"Stop!" I finally exclaimed, and Peter made a pouty face and jerked me upward forcefully so I was eye level with him.

"Do you still not believe?"

"Shut up."

Peter laughed. "It's okay to admit you were wrong. You'll be doing it an awful lot from now on, you know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I suddenly demanded. Did he mean I had to stay here? That I couldn't go home? No way was he holding me prisoner, no matter who or what he was. I had to go home. That was it. I thought about Mom and Dad, how worried they must have been. I swallowed hard when I saw Peter's unforgiving gaze. "I'm going home."

Peter let go of my hands, and I dropped a few feet before I managed to steady myself. He glared down at me with such fire behind his eyes, you'd think I would have just killed his best friend. "Why? Why would you go back to that place? Be made a wife? Be made a mother?"

"Hey, I'm not that old."

"Not yet," Peter whispered, floating down toward me. "But how much longer before you start to think about it? Until you change for good? Until you really grow up?"

I just stared at him, my brain and my heart saying completely opposite things again. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't want to grow up, but some part of me always accepted that I had to. That there wasn't any point in fighting it, everybody had to grow up at some point. It wasn't all bad, honestly. Well, most of it was, like growing pains and hormonal imbalances and liking someone who doesn't know you exist and worrying about college and what am I even going to do with my life plus the whole sleep deprived thing sorta drives you up the wall...but you kind of find out who you want to be, right? Well, you're supposed to. It's supposed to be a learning process. Well, the thing was, all I ever saw when I looked in the mirror was a scared little girl stuck inside a grown up body. I wasn't ready for college, for a job, for a husband, for a kid. For a life I knew I'd screw up somehow, like I always did. I didn't feel excited, like I was supposed to. I just felt scared. To answer his question, I really didn't have much time until I started to "really" grow up. God knows I had already started worrying about it.

"I don't want to grow up," I whispered finally. "But it's too late."

Peter shook his head, his eyes earnest as he searched mine. "Too late? If it were too late, you wouldn't even be here." Peter studied my face as I tried hard to swallow back tears. I stared down at the tiny little treetops, focusing more on the uneasy feeling they gave me than the more daunting uneasiness the boy in front of me radiated.  
Peter gripped my shoulders so I was forced to look at him. "Hey, come on. Don't be sad. You're here now. No grown up problems will bother you ever again."

No grown up problems will bother you ever again. He was saying I wasn't going back. He was saying I would never grow up, that he would keep me here somehow. I'd be sixteen forever. Well, sorry bud, but I was going home, no matter how much I didn't want to. It was the right thing to do...right?

Still, why did he care so much if I was sad? Was he actually trying to cheer me up? I chewed my lip uneasily.

Peter held my hand gently and tugged me along to his camp, silent as I watched the trees blurring by and ran my fingers through the low clouds. I was trying hard to stop my eyes from tearing up, and the breeze was drying them a bit. I kept watching the back of Peter's head, unable to tell if he was the good or bad guy. He just seemed like...a boy. A boy who was just as afraid, or maybe more afraid, of growing up as I was. Part of me wanted to believe him when he said I had been here before and acted like he wanted to protect me. But cold, stiff reality sunk in, and I knew he was trying to manipulate me, Peter Pan or not. I wasn't a little girl anymore. If he had fooled me before, he wasn't going to again.

Just then, Peter twisted his head around and looked at me, a glint in his eye that made my stomach twist into knots again. I quickly looked away, but could see him smirking slightly out of the corner of my eye before he turned around again. "Almost there."

I gulped, suddenly regretting ever letting him bring me to his "camp." I must have just been getting deeper and deeper into the forest, which probably meant I had less chance of finding people that weren't convinced they were Peter Pan.

Peter slowed and let go of my hand. I found myself almost grasping for it, uneasy about flying on my own. Peter smiled at me. "You alright, love?"

I glared at him as I held out my arms to steady myself. "What do you think?"

Peter grinned at me and gently landed on his light feet. Great, now I have to land. And he can probably see up this stupid shirt.

Well, if that wasn't motivation, I don't know what was, because I somehow figured out how to switch off the new flying thing. Only problem was I flicked the off switch a little too fast and hit the ground with a heavy thud and a low groan.

I stood up and pushed my hair back from my face. Before Peter could say anything else that was remotely snarky, I gave him a sharp look that told him to shut it before I smacked that smug look off his stupid face. "By the way, have you got any pants around here? I mean, I've got no intention of flying in a dress."

"That's hardly a dress," Peter scoffed.

"Well, sorry, I wasn't planning on waking up in a forest somewhere. I was kinda sleeping, ya know?" I snapped as I spun to face him.

The corner of Peter's mouth tugged up in amusement and I continued to walk backwards to reduce the risk of flashing him. He gave me a weird look. "You know, you're the first teenage girl to come to the island."

I rolled my eyes. "Uh huh. Right."

"I'm just saying, I don't see girls too often-"

"Aren't you the boy who never grew up?" I snapped, desperately wanting a pair of jeans at that moment.

Suddenly, Peter had both my wrists in his hands and pinned to a nearby tree trunk. I sucked in a sharp gasp in surprise and tried to push him off me, but he wouldn't budge. Apparently I'd hit a soft spot, as if the very definition of himself made him angry. Like that made sense. I refused to give him the satisfaction of frightening me, so I glared pointedly at him as if to ask what the hell he was doing. It was a pretty reasonable question.

"Let me make this perfectly clear," Peter hissed in my ear, his breath too hot on the side of my neck. "I make the rules around here. You will do as I ask and follow my rules. If you fail to do this, well, I'll just have to come up with some sort of horrible punishment."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from demanding who put him in charge in the first place, deeming it unwise to do so in my present predicament. I did the only thing my scared little rabbit brain could have done at that moment. I swallowed hard and stared at him, neither accepting nor rejecting his menacing warning. Peter's eyes lingered on mine a little too long before he released me abruptly and started stalking through the forest to a sunny clearing. God knows why I followed him, rubbing my wrists a little bit and trying to forget the way his lips brushed my ear as he spoke. I didn't have anywhere to go, I guess. And Peter would probably find me before I managed to get more than a few yards from his camp.

As I trailed after Peter I broke through the brush to the clearing, where a low fire sat in desperate need of more wood in the center. There were logs set up like benches a few feet from the pit, and I wondered why they would put the benches so far back if the whole point of the fire was to keep warm. I brushed the thought from my mind as I took in a couple tents scattered unevenly around, and a looming treehouse built far up in a tall, sturdy tree. A ladder hung from the opening, but I was guessing there wasn't much need for it.

It took me a couple seconds to notice a little boy staring at me, his mouth gaping wide. He had deep brown skin and curly dark hair. He looked about nine or ten, I couldn't quite tell. I smiled a little warily at him, but he just continued to look at me like I came from outer space or something.

"Are you a...lady?" He asked suddenly.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Was it really that hard to tell? "Um, yes?"

The boy grinned, straightening up and giving me a deep bow, making me let out a laugh. "I'm August. May I ask what your name is, miss?"

"Sophie," I replied. "Nice to meet you, August."

August grinned up at me, and he looked as if he was going to ask me another question, when his eyes suddenly lit up. I glanced behind me, to see a tall, long haired blond boy sulking behind a tree. He looked older, probably Peter's age. I didn't know if he was actually glaring at me, or if he was in a bad mood.

"Felix! This is Sophie! She's a lady!" August exclaimed, as he bounded over to Felix.

"How incredibly observant of you, August. She is in fact female," Felix grumbled. I found myself pulling down my shirt self consciously again.

"I know, but, we never have girls on the island! The shadow always brings them back. Why does it do that, anyway?" August cocked his head at Felix.

"Because Pan tells it to, obviously," Felix said as he continued to stare at me. I flicked my eyebrow up questioningly. Felix hid further behind his dark hood and glanced down at August.

"Why does Pan tell it to? Girls seem nice. At least, Sophie does."

I smiled, wondering how August could have decided I was nice after exchanging about five words with each other. "We're usually pretty nice, August. I guess you'd have to ask Pan why he doesn't want girls on the island."

Felix shot me a look and said, "Yes, August, why don't you go find Pan and ask him? Then come back and tell us the exciting news."

August ignored Felix's sarcasm and ran off, calling out for Pan. I honestly had no idea where that boy had went, I could have sworn I had just seen him standing near the fire pit. My attention flickered back to Felix, who was still gazing at me from under his hood. I couldn't tell if he was trying to be mysterious or some crap like that, or if he was trying to hide something.

"Who are you?"

"Um, Sophie-"

"No, I mean who are you? What are you?" Felix interrupted briskly.

"Er, a...person?" I said slowly, confused by what he was saying. "Peter said I came here when I was a kid. But that's, um, crazy."

Felix stared at me again, sizing me up. He didn't look too impressed. I stood up a little straighter and tried hard to look brave as I stood there in my ridiculously short outfit. This guy creeped me out, maybe even more than Pan.

After what seemed like at least eight minutes of Felix staring at me with a smirk on his face, I blurted out in irritation, "What?"

"Nothing," Felix said calmly despite my obvious annoyance. I didn't know what the hell he was looking at, honestly. I wasn't really doing anything interesting.  
I rolled my eyes. "Seriously. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You won't last here. Pan's going to send you back, like he always does," Felix droned.

"If he was gonna send me back, why hasn't he done it yet?" I groaned.

"Do you want to go back?"

"I don't know. It's none of your business, anyway," I snapped.

Felix chuckled. "There are no secrets on Neverland, kid."

I glared at him and leaned against a tree as I furrowed my eyebrows questionly. "Aren't there supposed to be...more of you?"

"You mean the lost boys?" Pan was suddenly next to me, leaning against the tree lazily. I jumped away, stifling a tiny scream. Peter and Felix smiled at each other and my stomach did flip flops again. I swallowed hard and glanced between them. Get ready, Sophie. Karate ninja mode. Or running a 5k mode. One of those. Maybe both of them.

"There are more of them, they're out hunting right now," Peter drawled as his eyes slid back to me. His eyebrow flicked up as he looked me up and down. "You still want pants?"  
"Yeah," I said grudgingly.

Peter pouted mockingly. "Magic word?"

I inhaled deeply and muttered, "Please."

Peter grinned and snapped his fingers. I cocked my head and frowned at him, confused. "Uh?"

Peter raised his eyebrows and looked down at me. I glanced down at myself, my mouth falling a little open in shock. I was wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and brown leather lace-up combat boots, paired with a floaty white blouse.

"Well, your style isn't half bad," I remarked, fiddling with the creamy white sleeve.

Peter shrugged, "I merely used what you were thinking of."

"You can read my thoughts?" I gasped.

Peter laughed. "No, sweetie, only Neverland can do that. The magic here lets you think of anything you want, and it's yours. I just wanted you to have whatever you meant by 'pants,' since I've only seen a woman wear dresses and wouldn't know."

I was still looking at him suspiciously. "Let me guess, to do that, I have to believe with all my wittle heart?"

"You already do. How do you think you flew?"

That shut me up. I couldn't have flown without believing I could. I gulped and bit my lip. Peter smiled at me cheekily. Felix was still watching me intently, but I had started to ignore his dry gaze. Or maybe I was just getting used to it.

"What if I wanted to go home?" I immediately asked, knowing that it was impossible anything on this island could be that easy but wanting to ask anyway.  
Peter laughed. "Not that simple. But you don't want that, anyway."

"Of course I do!"

Peter flicked an irritating eyebrow. "Really? What on earth for?"

I just stared at him, completely dumbstruck. Gee, I don't know, my family? Friends? Normal life? I had plenty of reasons to go home, but I couldn't quite find a way to make my voice tell him them.

"See? You just wanna have fun; be a kid again? I mean, who doesn't?" Peter's eyes grazed over mine, then his face lit up. "Wanna do something fun?"  
Oh God no. This guy's idea of fun can be nothing but bad news. "Um."

"C'mon, you gotta be a good sport 'round here," Peter said. He looked very excited, like a kid on Christmas who just got a new toy. I didn't like the idea of being one of those toys. He seemed like the kinda guy who had a tendency to break them.

"What exactly do you mean by fun?" I asked slowly.

Peter shrugged. "Nothing to worry about. We've only had a couple casualties."

"A couple?" I choked. Maybe that was where the rest of the Lost Boys were.

"I didn't like 'em much anyway."

"Ah, right, no biggie," I scoffed sarcastically.

Peter's eyes slipped to Felix, who shook his head softly. Peter's face was unreadable as he looked back at me. "Please trust me, Sophie. You used to."  
My throat felt like it was swelling up. "First of all, I don't remember coming here, much less trusting you. And why the hell would I ever trust you if I had?"

I almost thought I saw a twinge of hurt cross Peter's cocky face, but it vanished as quick as it came. "Maybe it'll help jog your memory."

"Lame excuse."

"What? Are you afraid?"

"No. I'm just...I don't trust you and you're still most likely to be a crazy serial killer."

"You can't be a lost boy if you won't even try," Felix said quietly.

I glared at him. "Who says I wanna be a lost boy?"

Peter was looking at me funny. "You're different."

"Different?"

"You used to want to stay."

A lump caught in my throat. "Yeah, well. Reality kinda does that to you."

"But...there's no reality here. You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want. Isn't that all you ever wanted?"

I just stared at him, unable to come up with an answer for that.

"It's okay. I always like a challenge," Peter said casually as a big grin spread across his face. "And, Peter Pan never fails."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. This guy was definitely as egotistical as the storybook character, if not more. Maybe he had more in common with the Disney version than I thought. Peter Pan loved games, deals. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. It was worth a shot, anyway. "Fine. How about, if in three days, if you've convinced me to stay, then I'll stay here and be a lost, um, person. But if I still want to go home, you have to let me."

"Make it a week. There's no way I could show you all of Neverland in three days."

A whole week? It seemed like a long time. My parents would be worried sick. And what if time passed differently here, like it did in the movies? A sharp image of me returning home to my family's long-dead bodies buried under gravestones crossed my mind, and my stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots again. Still, I didn't want to push it, and if I was still alive at that point, I would definitely still want to go home. There was no way he could convince me otherwise.

I was going home one way or another, I guessed. That was better than the alternative of staying with teenage boys for the rest of my life. "Okay."

Peter's eyes narrowed. "But you have to go anywhere I say, and join in on the games. You need to act like a Lost Girl."

I didn't want to, but I didn't see any better alternative. "Fine. But I don't have to like it."

"You most certainly do not."

"Deal?"

"Deal." Peter held out his hand for me to shake. I gulped, everything in me screaming this was probably the worst idea I'd ever had. Still, Peter's hand was waiting expectantly. I gingerly placed my palm in his and did my best to shake forcefully, but my whole being felt shaky.

Only a week. Just don't die.

Peter released my hand and grinned. "Okay, now you have to come with me." Shoot. "You promised," He pouted, tugging at my wrist. My skin crawled as his fingers brushed my arm. I reluctantly allowed him to lead me into the woods.

I glanced back at Felix, who was glaring at me with such intensity I immediately flipped back around to look at the back of Peter's head. What had I gotten myself into?

"Don't mind Felix. He just needs to warm up, that's all," Peter said casually as I followed him through the forest.

I narrowed my eyes at his back. I couldn't think of what to say without saying Felix was kind of terrifying me, so I just grunted a muffled response. I wasn't quite sure how Peter would interpret it since I didn't really know what I meant by it in the first place. After a brief pause, I cleared my throat uncomfortably and asked, "So, why are we walking?"

Peter turned around and flicked up an eyebrow. "You're pretty eager to fly for a girl who wants to go back to reality so badly."

I shrugged. "Seems faster."

"The reason we're not flying is because we have a limited supply of pixie dust," Peter explained as he ducked under a tree branch. I followed him under the branch, pulling my hair to one side so it wouldn't block my vision. I didn't remember that from the cartoon.

We walked in silence, him leading me deeper and deeper into the unending forest and me trying to mull everything over. This was actually happening; I was here. I was practically being held prisoner by my childhood hero (who turned out to be much less hero like than I had thought). There was a scary guy with a hood named Felix who might or might not have the desire to slit my throat later. He looked like he was ready to, anyway. I had brand new clothes because I wished for it. I had flown higher than the treetops, high enough I could run my fingers through the clouds. I was stuck in Neverland, where I would never have to deal with grown up problems.

I wasn't completely sure I wanted this to be a dream.

**Thanks so much for reading! Pleaseeee review:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! Sorry for such a long wait, we'll try to post more chapters sooner next time! :) Hope you like this chapter! It's not from Sophie's POV this time, but it will be next time! Thank you so much for reading and any reviews are very appreciated! **

Emma's POV

A sharp pounding resonated in my head. My out-of-focus mind tried not to think about it as I kept my eyes tightly shut. Nausea and dizziness swept over me as I came more and more into consciousness.

"Try not to move too much, love," a raspy voice echoed from above. "You took a nasty fall."

I lifted two fingers to my temple to try and put a stop to this throbbing pain in my head when they touched something thick and sticky. Bringing my fingers back down to eyesight, my eyes fluttered open to see dark red paint all over my hand. Paint? I thought. I wasn't redoing my room or anyth-Blood.

My eyes snapped shut and my head lolled back into unconsciousness.

The next time I opened my eyes I was swaying back and forth while lying down, the pain not as evident as before. I took a deep breath and tried to regain my eyesight. My surroundings were blurry, but with every breath I took, the prominent objects became clearer and clearer.

My legs were resting on comfortable rope woven into a hammock, which explained the swaying. The wooden walls were slanted, and treasure chests were scattered about the floor. I steeled my nerves and dizziness to stand up, holding onto my head to prevent falling over. The floor unexpectedly began to rock, and I grew confused, I had just gotten off the hammock.

When my brain finally began to have some sense of bearing, my first logical thought was a ship. Obviously. How could I not realize this? The salty sea breeze smell, combined with the stink of an unshowered crew. This concussion must have really taken an effect on me.

Oh, and when I said "logical thought" before, I really meant completely insane because how the hell would I have gotten onto a ship in the first place? I couldn't decide whether to panic and hide in a corner, or let my curious, adventurous side take over and open the hatch on the ceiling.

All of the bedtime stories, all of the countless numbers of hours adventure movies I had seen and novels I had read were leading me to this moment. Who was I to deny what could potentially be the greatest plot of my existence?

I blocked out the pounding, and reached up to the handle, pulling it forward and swinging down a foldable, wooden staircase. A woosh of fresh air blasted upon my face, and I reveled in in after being in a cramped storage.

Adjusting to the newly found light, the first thing I saw was an endless expanse of blue waves. I smiled at the sight, as it was one familiar to me. The crowing of the various sea birds, the crash of the waves against the side of the ship, the soothing bobbing up and down, and up and-

"See you've finally awoken, love."

A man emerged in front of me in a long leather coat with various pockets. His dark, short hair matched his scruffy beard, yet he appeared to be wearing eyeliner to further define his bright, crystal blue eyes.

Alright, a man wearing makeup. Who am I to judge?

Extending whatever courtesy I had been raised with, I raised an eyebrow, and tried not to interrogate this figure when I asked "And who are you?"

"Ah," the man responded. "I suppose the real question is, who might you be?"

"I asked you first," I retorted.  
"I asked you second."

"This isn't helping either of us."

"I realize this, so why do we continue to contradict each other?" The man chuckled at me, sweeping his hand and bowing before formally introducing himself: "The name's Killian Jones. But most call me Captain Hook." He raised his metal appendage with a half-smile, tongue peeking out of the corner.

I took a step back, not wanting to be impaled any time soon, and furrowed my brow.

"And these men?" I asked, gesturing to the bundle of people behind him. Some were dressed in half-shirts, striped and ragged. Others had bandannas around their noggins, while some were wielding weapons such as swords and gunpowder. One even had an eyepatch.

Stereotypical pira-PIRATES.

"You're-you're all pirates, aren't you?" I questioned.

"Clever, love," Hook complimented, before turning around to face his crew. "You see, this is a smart one. I wouldn't reckon with her."

The rest of the crew guffawed mockingly, pointing at me. I wondered why I shouldn't be seen as terrifying and clever, until I looked down and realized I was wearing only a ragged t-shirt, short athletic shorts, and mismatched socks with dolphins and cherries.

I rolled my eyes, thinking this must be a dream, and I had nothing to lose, so I fought back. "Hey, I may be girlish in figure, but I can tear your limbs in half and shoot two of you with one arrow. Don't mess with me, I can raise hell on you." I stood back, and squared my shoulders, feeling pretty proud of myself until the crew of pirates laughed even harder than before.

Captain Hook's laughter faded away, and he turned, amused, to me after wiping away a nonexistent, laughter-induced tear.

"Oh, you're feisty. What is your name, darling?"

"Why would you want to know? You don't even consider me a worthy opponent."

"Considering you fell out of the sky with no weapons, no chances of escaping in the middle of nowhere in this realm, surrounded by a malicious crew, I wouldn't consider you an opponent at all," Hook drawled in his English-Scottish?-accent. "In fact, you would make quite the female ally we need on this ship."

He winked, glancing seductively in my direction.

I rolled my eyes, but one of the phrases he mentioned stuck in my mind.

"Wait," I raised one finger. "What do you mean, I fell out of the sky?"

Hook stepped closer, and I could smell the sea on him as he leveled his face to mine. I stood my ground, but became increasingly wary as he raised his hook and pushed a lock that fell out of my braid behind my ears.

"Love, I've told you a handful already about this crew, and now I do believe it's my turn for some answers," he said in a hushed tone. "What's your name?"

I glared at him, and sighed. "Emma."

He lifted his head up sharply, his eyes wide with surprise, wonder, and-was that a bit of fear? Hook stumbled back, running his un-hooked hand through his hair as he appeared to be mumbling to himself. I only caught snippets such as "Emma...can't be…Neverland."

"Excuse me," I interrupted his mind process. "I've only been alive for about fifteen years. What possible influence could my name have on a group of pirates?"

He glanced angrily at me before pursing his lips and grabbing my shoulders tightly, continuing his interrogation.

"Did you ever-ever-know of a woman named Emma Swan?"

I squinted at his figure, confused at how he could possibly know this name.

"That...that's my grandmother. I was named after her."

Hook released me, eyes twinkling in surprise. He staggered backwards, while the rest of the crew stared at me in disbelief and wonder. Their countenances quickly turned towards their leader, who seemed to be going through the mental process of accepting information. His mood appeared to change from playful to deadly serious in a matter of seconds.

"You must be lying," he growled, wincing and not facing my direction.

"Why would I lie about my own grandmother?" I retorted, throwing out my hands in disbelief.

"It just...she can't have moved on," Hook mumbled, a pained expression in his appearance.

"Well, she must hav-wait," I paused, growing confused. "You knew my grandmother?"

Hook chuckled, a deep throaty laugh with more sarcasm than humor. "Let's just say your grandmother and I were quite familiar with each other."

I stood, shell-shocked. I could definitely read the intonations implied with his statement. What I didn't understand was how I could be standing here, next to a pirate who appeared to be in his mid-twenties and claimed to be my grandma's lover. A flurry of questions reeled through my mind. A wave of emotion flew across me, and I sat down, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in so little time. It was unbelievable.

"Obviously, we both have a long discussion ahead of us, don't we Captain?" I remarked, with a deep sigh.

"Aye, indeed we do, miss. Why don't we head down to the captain's quarters and we can chat over some rum," Hook said in a surprisingly gentle tone, guiding me off the deck. By this time, the crew were quietly whispering to each other, the beginnings of rumors forming on the tips of their filthy tongues.

"Back to work with ye!" Hook demanded of his crew. "We need to repair parts of the ship, so no lollygagging and FIND SOME LAND!"

I opened the hatch once again and clumped downstairs, stepping aside so Hook could lead the way to his quarters. Each wobble of his seemed pained, as if he had recently suffered a leg injury. Although I was still wary and slightly angry at the pirate, I couldn't help but feel slightly bad as he owned no cane and surely must have been pained. We reached the end of the hall, where a large steering wheel carved with intricate designs of mermaids and sea creatures rested upon a mahogany door.

"This way," Hook directed, holding the door open with his hook.

I gave him a quick, curious look, then stepped inside, taking in the water-logged, stereotypical surroundings.

"Why do you still come in here if water is leaking in?" I asked.

"A captain's quarters is his place of authority, love," Captain Hook responded with a flick of his eyebrows. "Without this place, what member of the crew would respect my privacy?"

An uncomfortable silence took over for a minute, each of us distracted by our individual thoughts, until a small smile grew on my face, and quickly became a disbelieving laugh.

Hook looked up then, grinning at what rang through his ears. "You have your grandmother's laugh." A warmth appeared in his stare, and I rolled my eyes, despite a small smile remaining on my face as I looked into my lap.

"This can't be real, you know. It just can't, it's too surreal," I laughed.

Hook sighed. "Sorry to disappoint you, love. I'm realer in this realm than any of your memories."

When he mentioned memories, I suddenly had a flashback of the last normal thing I remembered. Sophie's house, our annual sleepover. "Wait a minute, if-and only if-this is real, where is Sophie?"

"If I may ask, who?" Hook lazily lifted an eyebrow.

"Sophie, my best friend, if I'm here, where's she?"

"I wouldn't have the slightest idea love, if she even is in this realm. It could be only you for all you know," he suggested.

I sighed in defeat, supposing he could have a point. At least she wasn't surrounded by pirates, with the entire possibility of being slashed with a crew of swordsmen.

"How did I get here, Hook?" I shook my head.

"You should know this by this age, love. You see the story I was told was I was young, when a princess falls in love with a prince-"

"NO! I'm not talking that far back!" I grimaced. "Honestly, you pirate, how old do you think I am?"

He shrugged before responding. "I don't take appearances into account here. For example, I'm probably 500 years old. You could be anywhere from 5 to 1500 years."

I gave him a weirded-out look before shaking my head again and continuing with my original question.

"No, I meant how did I get here on this ship? Into this different realm, as you called it."

"You should have been more specific then," I rolled my eyes, and he continued. "Like I said before, you just fell out of the sky. Literally. It was in the middle of a thunderstorm, the crew was panicking because one of our sails had just been tossed into the ocean. The ship was being pushed back and forth, and half of them didn't think we'd make it. Then a bolt of lightning blasted the main rod, and with the quick thunder that followed, a hole of light opened out of the clouds. A body flew out of it, and before we could blink, you had appeared on the deck unconscious with a nasty gash on your head."

I listened silently, not remembering the slightest bit of sleeping in the clouds at Sophie's sleepover. Hook coughed, and took my quietness as a sign to continue storytelling.

"We thought it was the work of Pan, but the weather calmed after that. The waves became still, and we knew that if it was Pan, he would have let his anger make the whole ship overturn. The mystery is as great to us as it is to you, dear. Why are you here?"

I let this tumble and process in my muddled mind. I wish I could have formulated an answer to his question, but only a giant blank appeared in my mind whenever I tried to think about the events after falling asleep at Sophie's and before waking up in a hammock. None of this made sense. And why me? I was nobody special, these storybook-like adventures only happened to interesting characters. All weekend, every weekend, I would sit in my room and either read books or watch movies about those type of dynamic characters, letting each of their individual personalities sink into a part of who I was. I was just a jumbled creation of other people's stories.

"You okay there, love?" Hook appeared concerned. "You've been staring at the same spot on the wall for a few minutes now."

I opened my mouth to respond, when a loud banging rang throughout the cabin. The knock completed, and before Hook could affirm or deny entrance, one of the crew members rushed inside, out of breath and sweaty.

"Cap'n, cap'n, he's here," the man with the eyepatch gasped. "We stumbled on the wrong patch of land."

"Who's here?" I asked, letting myself be swept up with the commotion.

"Our worst enemy," Hook answered, twisting his hook tightly. "Come meet the bloody demon, Pan."

**Please tell us what you think!:) Thanks so much!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I really hope you liked last chapter, and this chapter! Let us know how you like the story so far!**

**We're back to Sophie this time:)**

Sophie's POV:

"You wanna tell me where we're going?" I asked sourly.

"Nah," Peter said with an infuriating smile.

"Why?" I groaned.

"It's a surprise, of course!" Peter exclaimed like it was obvious.

I rolled my eyes and grumbled, "Great."

Peter chuckled and leaped over a big log. He turned around and held out his hand in a very gentlemanly style, like he wanted to help me across. Like I needed help stepping over a log. I gave him a funny look and he smirked at me.

"I'm only being polite," Peter frowned.

"You're weird," I said as I placed my hand awkwardly in his and swung my legs over the log. I really didn't need his assistance in doing so, like I'd thought earlier.

"How so?"

I scoffed, "Um, well, you go from crazy scary threatening maniac to 'polite' like, really fast."

Peter was walking beside me now. "I'm a man of many titles," he said in a dramatically low voice. I couldn't help but laugh at that. I thought I felt his eyes on me again, but when I looked up at him he was staring straight ahead. I chewed my lip and slipped my hands in my pockets.

We had been walking for what seemed like hours when, finally, Peter turned to me and said, "Almost there."

I looked him up and down warily. "This isn't gonna be good, is it?"

"Sophie! The whole point of this is to convince you to stay! It'd be a little ridiculous to frighten you now," Peter assured me, grinning widely.

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"I promise it's not that bad," Peter said. "I won't let anything too bad happen."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered sarcastically. Peter slipped behind me, covering my eyes with his hands. "Um, Peter-"

"Trust me?" Peter leaned down and whispered in my ear. I gulped as my entire body went tense. I didn't know why he was so hung up on this trust thing. Why would he care so much if I didn't trust him, of all things? He must have realized that if I had any sense at all I wouldn't ever trust him. "Are your eyes closed?"

"Yes," I said grudgingly-and they were.

"Okay, just, um, keep them closed," He commanded as his hands fell from my eyes to my shoulders. I felt a strange sweeping motion, like I'd left my stomach at the top of a roller coaster, and I almost opened my eyes but suddenly felt Peter's hands over my eyes again. Peter pushed me forward a little, keeping his hands over my eyes until he said a little breathlessly, "Okay. Open!"

Peter's hands fell from my eyes. I was a little confused, expecting to still be in the forest since we hadn't appeared to move much. Instead, I found myself in a strange cave of sorts, with an opening that appeared to connect to the ocean surrounding the island. The slow, gentle lapping of the waves against the rocky platform I stood on cast eerie green and blue shadows on the cave walls.

I looked over my shoulder at Peter, he was a little hunkered down so he was eye-level with me. He was chewing his lip and watching me anxiously. "Peter, where are we?" I asked, whispering for no apparent reason.

A big grin spread across Peter's face as he spun around in front of me and gently held my wrists and walked backwards toward the unearthly waves. His eyebrows flicked up in excitement that had the same innocence as a child's. "I call it Mermaid Cave."

"Mermaid?" I repeated, feeling a little queasy.

Peter pulled me down beside him abruptly so we lay flat on our stomachs with our heads poking over the jagged platform's edge. He put a finger to his lips. "They'll come if you're very quiet."

My wide eyes fell from his face to the reflective water beneath me. I saw a girl looking back at me, her blue-green eyes looking a little startled but mostly curious and...awestruck. So, I wasn't going to admit it to anyone, much less Peter, but I was pretty damn excited about the mermaids. My hair fell forward, the long ends getting caught on my blouse so they didn't get wet. I didn't look scared. I looked entranced, and it scared me. My eyes flicked from my image in the pool to Peters. He was watching the side of my real face with a strange look that I could only describe as an odd mix of anticipation and...admiration? I snapped my attention from his bleary reflection to him. He quickly looked down at the clear water.

"They'll come if you touch the water," Peter confessed.

"Why?" I asked slowly, pretty sure I didn't want the answer.

"Because they want to drown you."

"They what now?"

Peter turned to me. "I promise I won't let them actually drown you."

"Well, that's comforting."

"You want to see them, don't you?"

"Of course!" I blurted, exposing how excited I actually was. "I-of course I do. But I don't want to drown, for God's sake!"

"Here," Peter entwined my fingers in his despite my flinch at his touch. "If they do try to pull you in, we'll both go under."

I had to admit, his relaxed hand over mind made me feel a lot better. And I did want to see a mermaid. Like, um, pretty bad. Peter's mouth quirked up in a devilish smile. Our fingers slowly met the calm water surface. I could feel a chill run up my arm and travel down my spine, but Peter remained unfazed. The whole cave fell strangely silent. I couldn't remember if it had always been that way, but I literally could hear nothing. Maybe the water made you deaf. A bright purple light seemed to be radiating from the bottom of the pool. It was the second time that day that I was reminded of the lilacs from my childhood backyard. I instinctively tried to take my hand out of the water, but Peter held it tight below the surface.

"Peter, I-"

"Just a couple more seconds!" Peter assured. His eyes, full of adrenaline, searched the water's surface hungrily.

Unable to argue or do much to get my hand out of the water because that stuff was going crazy, I just swallowed hard and watched the pool. I could have sworn it was bubbling even though I felt no temperature change. Again, things were getting crazy.

All at once, two ghostly pale hands latched onto Peter and I'd wrists. Peter laughed like he was winning an intense game of Monopoly, but his smile faded as he couldn't wrench his hand free. I struggled against the hand locked onto my own wrist. It's long nails were digging so deep I could feel the claws starting to break the skin. Abort. Abort mission. Run, Soph, run!

"Peter…" I croaked warily, my mouth feeling like the Sahara desert.

Peter looked at me, his eyes wide with alarm. "Don't let go of my hand, whatever hap-"

I was suddenly submerged in salty violet tinted water, my hand still squeezing Peter's tightly. I immediately flicked my eyes open under the water, despite the burning I felt from the salt. I was face to face with an eerily pale woman with dark black hair that surrounded her hauntingly beautiful face. She cocked her head at me sharply and kept her long nails dug into my wrist.

I noticed Peter was beside me when he suddenly thrashed violently, alarming the red haired mermaid holding him in a tight headlock and thrusting me to the surface. I clawed my way to the rocky platform, assuming Peter was right behind me.

With only one leg still hanging in the now deep, royal purple colored waters, a slimy, bloodless hand reached out and dragged me back under. I kicked at the mermaids midsection, and she released me and doubled over in pain. I burst through the surface, treading water as my eyes frantically searched for Peter.

Darn it all. Aren't I supposed to be the damsel in distress?

I could see the vague blur of his light brown hair and ridiculous all-green outfit at the bottom of the pool. Goddamn Peter Pan was being abducted by mermaids and guess who had to save him? Me. Mostly because my strong moral compass was telling me I had to at least try, and also because...I mean, there was a dude. Being drowned by mermaids. The only dude who could get me off this island. So, I took one very, very deep breath and torpedoed myself to the bottom of the murky purple depths.

The two mermaids must have knocked his head on the bottom, because Peter's eyes were closed and he had a strangely peaceful look on his face, which was not normal for mermaid victims. He also no longer had a shirt on, from what my bleary salty vision could tell. The dark haired mermaid was cradling his head, her own cocked at a weird angle and her lips moving.

I was guessing it was some kind of creepy freakish mermaid ritual. I was expecting Peter to sprout a tail at any moment. I didn't know where the red headed mermaid had gone. I was just praying she wasn't going to come hurtling at me before I reached Peter.

I figured it was either drown or drown trying to save Peter. I mean, the trying to save Peter one at least had the possibility of one of us surviving. So, I hurtled myself at the dark haired mermaid, making her head flip back at a sickening angle by literally karate chopping with my foot at her neck, like they do in movies. I was impressed with myself but mostly disturbed by how easily I had done it. She was still, floating there with her hair fluttering around her. I took full advantage of the situation and wrapped my arms around Peter's chest, and, using all my might, propelled him up ahead of me. He was suspended in the water about halfway to the surface, but I had been pushed down when I shoved him up.

I swam frantically, my vision starting to turn black and the pain in my lungs getting unbearable. I used both my hands and whatever momentum I had left to shoot Peter to the surface as my palms collided with the bottom of his bare feet.

His boots were gone, but that was the least of my worries as I heard hissing in my right ear. Stupid nasty mermaids. Red hair blocked the small line of vision I had left. I was not going down now, no matter what the stupid mermaid had to say about it.

I kicked every whichaway and I swam as quickly as I could to the surface. The red head somehow managed to sink her stupid claws into my right calf, dragging them as I kicked away from her.

So, yes, that hurt like hell. But I wasn't letting anything get in the way of me and dry land, so I broke the surface just as my vision went completely black from lack of oxygen. I sucked in the most gratifying puff of air I had ever had and quickly found Peter's limp body floating so only the top of his forehead was above the surface. I paddled over and flopped his heavy, water logged body onto the platform with as little difficulty as I could manage. I glanced down into the murky purple depths to see both the dark haired mermaid and the ginger demon who had scratched my leg up advancing toward me very quickly. I scrambled back onto the platform just as their creepy claws burst through the surface. I jumped back as they hissed and screamed loud enough I could hear it echoing around the cave, which confused me because it didn't seem physically possible.

"Stupid girl!" Echoed around the cave at least twenty five times.

"Well this stupid girl just outsmarted you creepy, weird...things, so, hah!" I shouted back.

I heard the mermaids let out two ear-splitting screeches that made me cover my ears, and then saw them sink beneath the waves. They knew they had lost.

I suddenly felt the crippling sting of salt water in the five, deep gashes in my calf. I fell to the ground and bit my lip to keep from crying out. I gingerly angled my leg so the gashes weren't touching the uneven rock beneath me and crawled over to Peter, dragging my right leg behind me. I cradled Peter's head in my arms much like I had just seen the dark haired mermaid just do.

Peter's eyes were still closed. His face was pale and felt cold against my clammy palms. My heart raced. I could feel sheer panic settling in my stomach. "Oh, God. Peter, dammit, wake up!"

I shook his shoulders hard, but he didn't move a muscle. I drew my hand back, coming down and slapping his cheek as hard as I could. His head just rolled to the side with the impact. I could feel tears prickling in my eyes. I wiped one away, my lips trembling. "No, please...wake up, stupid. You're supposed to wake up now."

I pushed down hard on the center of his bare, unmoving chest like they'd taught me to do when I had taken a babysitting class in 6th grade. They'd always said to call an ambulance before you tried anything, but I didn't think an ambulance would reach Neverland any time soon. I pumped hard with both hands hard and fast, spitting out insults as I did so. "You're arrogant, cocky, manipulative, _English_, stupid, irritating, annoying, and too damn hot for your own good, you-you idiot."

After 30 pushes on his chest, Peter wasn't coughing or anything. "Peter Pan, you are not dying after what I just went through. I went into purple violent bubbling evil mermaid hell to save your ass and you are not dying now."

I tucked my wet long hair behind my ears and leaned down, prepared to give him the dreaded mouth to mouth, when Peter coughed up a gallon of salt water everywhere. I flopped down beside him on my stomach, breathing an exhausted sigh of relief. "You have no idea what I just went through."

Peter sat up. "Sophie...did you say I was hot?"

I sat straight up so I was now sitting beside him. Of all the things I had just said to him, he chose to remember that one. Of course. My cheeks flushed pink. "No."

Peter laughed. I couldn't help but laugh too. I threw my arms around him, surprising both of us. He almost shrunk away before he hugged me back, like he didn't know how to react. I wondered when the last time someone hugged him was. I felt another tear roll down my face as I said quickly, "No dying, okay? It's really stressful."

"Oh-okay," Peter said earnestly, squeezing my shoulders. I wiped away my tears before he pulled back so he didn't see them. His eyes dropped to my leg. My soaked jeans were ripped where the five gashes were. One for each nail. The blood had stained the material around the wounds, and there was a puddle of water around us mixed with eerie ribbons of my blood. I swallowed hard and felt my stomach flutter uneasily at the sight of the wound. I didn't have a big problem with blood, but I didn't like the look of big nasty cuts. The stinging seemed to worsen as I let myself look at it.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing, really-"

"Nothing? You're bleeding buckets!"

"Uh, well, yeah-"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted...I told you to trust me, how could you ever trust me after this?" Peter rambled, crawling over to the other side of my leg, kneeling in the puddle of my own blood. I noticed he has wet marks on his back that were stained red from the spread of water mixed with blood. I swallowed hard. Peter raked his hands through his wet hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. "I honestly didn't know they were gonna...I mean I thought we'd just wrench free...this is all my fault."

I was actually genuinely touched for his concern. And somehow, the honesty of the tears in his bleary eyes convinced me that I could trust him. It defied everything my head was telling me, but my heart immediately forgave him for the mess. I could barely believe I was actually trying to make him feel better. "No, Peter, it's...it isn't your fault. You just wanted to show me the mermaids."

Peter wiped at his face with the back of his hand as he looked up at me, his eyes innocent and childlike again. Was he crying? God, he really was a mess. He looked like a little kid. He bit his lip, then looked down at my leg. "Sophie, please don't take this the wrong way. In order for the skin to heal, and not into the fabric, you need to take off your pants."

I just stared at him. Because he was right. The skin was going to get caught in the material soon and digging that out was gonna hurt even more. Trouble was, I could barely stand. I breathed deeply. Sophie, he's gonna have to help you and you're just gonna act mature and curse yourself for wearing your goddamn frilly underwear to bed today.

"I, um."

"I'll turn around," Peter said quickly as he stood and spun around. "I'll cover my eyes too."

I looked up at the back of his head pleadingly. God, why? "Peter, I...I can't stand." Peter looked back down at me in my feeble position. His Adam's apple bobbed like he was swallowing hard. "I tried earlier. I kinda fell over and crawled over here."

Peter's face remained honest and concerned as he squatted beside me. "Here. I'll support you...and see how it goes from there."

Again, since when was this guy nice? Maybe he felt obligated since I had just saved him from drowning. Peter wrapped one arm just below my arms at about the bottom of my shoulder blade, his fingers feeling tight and secure against my side. I was pressed up against him on the right side, and his face was so close to mine that I could feel him breathing softly on my neck. I looked up at him, his eyes locking with mine and making me regret looking at him in the first place. There was nothing mischievous or suspicious about the concerned crinkle in his brow or slight redness rimming his eyes. He just looked like a normal boy. And that scared more than any creepy maniac serial killer Pan. This was just Peter, just helping Sophie.

I kicked off my soaked leather lace up boots. My fingers fumbled with the button on my heavy, sopping jeans and unzipped them as quickly as I could. I wanted to get this over with. Stupid damn tight jeans. I chewed my lip as I tried to pull the jeans that clung to my cold, damp skin. Peter suddenly slipped a finger in my belt loop on the right side. I glanced up sharply, and he looked at me like he was about to jump off a bridge or something.

"I, um, just want to help. Promise. You're losing blood," He explained apologetically.

It was true. I could feel myself getting light headed. I nodded and we managed to get the left leg and thigh of my right leg free from the jeans. Peter helped me sit back down as he gingerly pulled the jean back down from the knee to my ankle, touching the wound as little as possible. I was still wincing in pain as the material pulled back from the sticky blood around the gashes.

Eventually, I was free of the cursed, nightmarishly wet skinny jeans. I didn't care too much- Peter had seen me in my ridiculous oversized tee shirt, and the loose blouse I was wearing covered most of me. Neither of us were too concerned with the fact we were both missing key articles of clothing.

I was pretty much half way into unconsciousness as Peter said, "I have magic. I can heal you."

I nodded my head as I slumped down on the hard ground, my head pounding. I didn't have any energy left to object, not that I would. I felt a weirdly soothing sensation crawling up and down my leg as my eyes rolled back in my head. The last thing I heard was an unusually loud clap of thunder, then my mind slipped into dreamy darkness.

**Really hope you guys liked this chapter! Pleaseee review:D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys! So sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've been super busy with school and sports:(**

**This chapter's pretty short, but hopefully you guys like it!**

Emma's POV:

It was a boy. It wasn't a monster, nor a demon, nor someone who looked remotely threatening. Except, perhaps, the knowing smirk on his face, the one of a troublemaker. I stared at him in awe, and three thoughts ran through my mind:

One. This boy is incredibly attractive and I would not mind a piece of that. Mmf.

Two. His face looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?

Three. How could one teenage boy become a pirate ship's worst enemy?

His smirk grew, as if he could read my thoughts. He took a small step in advance, causing the pirate crew to flinch and Hook to stretch out a hook-embellished arm in front of me.

"Well aren't you all welcoming?" the boy drawled, beginning to pace on the deck, arms casually behind his back.

"Pan. Why are you here?" Hook snarled.

"I think the more prominent question is: why are you here?" the boy-Pan-retorted. "You should be searching for your one true love, am I right?"

True love. Pirates can have one of those? The stereotypical pirate in my mind would have left his family and loves for a life of greed and pillage with his brethren. Not off on a date getting seafood with his girlfriend.

I shot Hook a curious look, but his gaze was focused directly on Pan, his eyes smouldering with pent up fury. But Hook also shot Pan a look that said: Don't bring that up. Not here. Not now.

Pan caught the glance, gave a small chuckle, before noticing me, and his smirk grew. "And who's this? A new recruit?"

I cocked my head, confused. Did he really think I was going to be a pirate?

"She's new. Hit her head." Hook revealed as little as possible.

"Hmmm...interesting. But I'd rather hear who she is from her, not a washed-up, scruffy pirate."

Hook tensed, but refrained from jabbing his hook right in the boy's chest. In a flash, Pan was right next to me, studying me as if he were sizing up a foe-or an ally. He circled around me, taking in my ragged Boston long-sleeved t-shirt and athletic shorts. I attempted to stand my ground, but my heart was pounding, and I was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable in the silence. Pan's face drew dangerously close to mine, and I could feel his breath. One part of me wanted to close the distance between us, but the realistic side of me was more cautious.

"Hmm, she doesn't seem like much," Pan taunted, and my mouth dropped in offense. "In fact," he titled his head, preparing his blow. "she seems weak...easy to crush. You're nothing, girl."

It was instinct. Only once have I done this in my life, but my eyes flashed with rage and I drew back my arm and slapped him on the cheek with a force equal to my emotion.

His face moved with the hit, angled to the side as a red handprint grew slowly on his face. Hook was astounded, but his eyes twinkled with a newly developed admiration for my bravery. Or stupidity. Either or.

My eyes widened and I stood there in shock, feeling a mix of continued anger, surprise, and guilt. I suppose that was a little extreme, but then again, I had a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Pan raised a hand to his cheek, no doubt feeling the sting of the hit, then laughed. The boy actually had the nerve to laugh! He shook his head in disbelief, and the mood changed in the atmosphere, became charged with electricity and tension. Everything slowed down, and the sky turned grey. Even the boat itself seemed to be holding its breath, not rocking one inch.

Wait a minute. It was wavy one minute ago, and the height of the waves don't change that quickly. When glancing towards the ocean, I saw that the waves were paused midroll, unmoving. The trees on the nearby island were still as well, despite the blustery weather today. My suspicion and anxiety grew as Hook and his men grew in focus. None were blinking, all appeared to be glued to the ground. There was no flick of the finger, nor flinch of the foot. They were frozen.

My realization came too late as I was filled with a sense of dread, heart pounding louder than ever as I turned with my eyes shut, opening to see Pan almost nose to nose. In that moment, I knew why the pirates feared him so much. Why he was their greatest enemy. The look of outrage and pure hatred in his eyes was enough to paralyze the most well-known psychopath.

He threw his hands out to his sides, and a large gust of air slammed me into the entrance of the captain's quarters. I let out a groan, a trickle of pain creeping down my back. He appeared in front of me once again, teeth baring and long fingers around my neck, and I was completely and utterly trapped.

Stupidity, that slap was definitely stupidity.

My breath came out in short little bursts, as I tried not to hyperventilate. Pan drew his face close to my ear, slightly tightening his grip as he did so. I swallowed with difficulty, hoping some of my fear would be taken down with me.

"Who do you think you are, girl?" Pan hissed. I was struggling with my breathing, and I tried to remove his fingers from my neck, but to no avail. Pan waved his hand and two chains appeared, strapping themselves around my wrists to the wall.

When I said I was trapped before, I mean it now.

"No one beats Peter Pan at his game. No one even tries," Pan glared. "It seems to me like we've got our first competitor." He gave a squeeze, and I saw black spots.

"Before the games begin, I like to get to know my enemy," I saw my chance for freedom as his grip loosened, only slightly. I have to talk my way out of this, words are my greatest ally in this case.

"I think we're in agreement there," I gasped.

"Who. Are. You?" Pan repeated, shaking my throat as he did so.

I knew my existence on earth was going to be a little while longer, as long as the games were on, so a sense of sarcasm came back to me.

"Who am I?" I smirked. "24601."

Pan squinted, utterly confused. "What?" He gripped harder again, fury growing again as he realized I was trying to pull a trick on him.

I coughed. "Les Miserables? Jean Valjean?" I took another gulp of air. "You uncultured swine."

Bad Emma, bad Emma, bad Emma, your stupidity is showing again, why do you have to go and make the evil guy madder. Only I would try and insult the villain when he is an inch close to killing me.

Pan flipped out his knife, and quickly placed it to my neck, releasing his fingers in replacement. My breath came out in deeper gulps, and although I was faced with a more painful and threatening object, I was grateful for the opportunity to breath the salty air again.

"How dare you?" Peter Pan whispered. "Tell me this, girl, why shouldn't I just kill you right now?"

I racked my brain, trying to search desperately for a decent reason when all I've been in the past twenty minutes is idiotic. What I need is a weakness, something that appeals so strongly to the psychopath in front of me that he would forget.

Love.

He couldn't love. After meeting this boy, a pirate would be a hundred times more likely to be devoted to one person he loved deeply. However, maybe it wouldn't have to be love towards a person that could set me free.

"The game," I challenged. "You can't resist a good old fashioned game, especially when you don't know who I am, but you know that I could be a threat. It wouldn't be any fun to you if you just kill me now."

Pan appeared to be contemplating this, but his blade was pushed deeper against my neck. A small drop of blood appeared at the edge. I gulped.

"Come on Peter Pan," I goaded. "Where's your spirit?"

He snapped his head up and smirked. A new emotion appeared in his eyes: excitement.

"You've got yourself a deal, girl," I smiled, relieved, but he continued. "But, it has to be on my terms."

I glanced warily, the smiled sliding off of my face. "As long as you don't kill me on the spot, let's hear the terms."

Pan grinned. "One, you must tell me who you are. Two, the game itself: if you can survive on Neverland against my forces for seven days, I'll let you stay on the pirate ship where this blasted Hook can try his best to sail between realms. However, if I win, I choose how, when, and for what purpose you will die, with no resistance."

"That hardly sounds fair-" I began to argue, but his blade moved away from my neck and onto my arm, making a small slash in the skin. I winced, but made no noise, not wanted him to have the satisfaction. He noticed my pain and smirked, carving into my flesh other marks, causing blood to draw to the knife as I let out small screams, not able to hold it in. The pain grew in my arm as he completed his work, stinging as the salt in the air settled upon the slash marks.

"It's my terms, or a bloody death," he hissed. "Your choice."

A tear slipped out of my eye, but I ignored it and with a death glare, said "Bring it on."

"Good," Pan released his blade then, letting it clatter to the ground as he moved close to my ear yet again. "Now what's your name, darling?"

I let him move back, and focused directly at his eyes, wanting to make myself as intimidating as possible, despite my shaking fingers.

"Emma," I revealed, and just to spite him, I added "I'm the best there ever was."

He laughed condescendingly, and just rolled his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking I could be somewhat enough of a decent enemy to not be laughed at. Have some respect, I thought, but I remembered that this was a boy who drew blood from me with his blade just because I slapped and insulted him.

My previous thoughts retreated when he smirked, and I saw some sort of twisted joy in his expression. He was ready for a new challenge, I could see it. What better time to test my acting skills than this next week, pretending I have a greater sense of confidence and bravery?

"Let the games begin then, Emma," he took a couple steps back, and licked his lips, his smile growing and eyebrow flicked up. He turned around at the edge of the ship, then changed his mind, and whipped around. "But I must warn you…" He raised his arm then, ready to snap the world back into the present and disappear.

"Peter Pan never fails."

Like that, he was gone. No poof of air or dust, no remaining sign that he was ever on the ship except for the bonds around my wrists and the burning pain on my forearm. I saw the crew return to life, moving slowly and confused, searching for their enemy.

Hook noticed me first. "Emma!" he exclaimed, rushing to help unchain me. Using the blade of his hook to slash through the metal, I collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by this new development. Stupid me. Dammit what have I gotten myself into?

Hook crouched down, concern etched across his face. "Love, what's that on your arm?"

I glanced at the bleeding marks of which Peter scratched into my skin. 7 days. A constant reminder. A countdown to either my untimely demise or my escape.

"A deal of some sorts," I replied to Hook. His face darkened, as he began to understand what was happening. "Love, you've just made a deal with the devil."

"I know," I sighed, resigned to my fate. "but it may be my only chance to figure out why I'm here in this realm, and how to get back home."

"Are you sure-" Hook was cut off. A tight feeling overcame me, and my brain was swirling, in eight different places at once. Nausea and dizziness swept over my body and I tried to get my eyes to move back in focus. The swirling stopped, and I was surrounded by gigantic trees, blocking out the sun and providing the first arena.

The games had begun.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi again! This is back to Sophie's point of view, hope you like it! Please review3**

SOPHIE'S POV:

I woke up groggily, my head feeling oddly light. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, trying to access where I was. I could hear the crash of waves, and I turned my head to realize I was sitting on a beach. My legs were sandy and...not bleeding?

I angled my calf so I could see it better. All that remained of the mermaid epidemic was five, bright white scars tracing down my leg. I guess Peter did heal me, I thought, a little surprised that he could have done it. Speaking of Peter Pan...where the hell was he?

"Awake?" It wasn't Peter's familiar drawl that made me jump, but Felix's.

I gulped, looking up at him and wondering if he'd been sent to watch me while I rested. Or if he was plotting to kill me. I couldn't really tell with that guy. "Hi Felix."

A small grin tugged at the corner of Felix's mouth, but not the nice kind. He looked at me like I was a kid, like he knew something I didn't. Something important. "Hi, Sophie."

"Um…" I glanced down at myself, realizing I was wearing different clothes. It was a white, lacy dress with covered with flowers that almost looked real. They completely covered the dress, their silky white petals converging at little pale pink centers. I wouldn't have been surprised if I found a few stems hanging out of the seams. The dress was the perfect length, hitting me at about my mid thigh. There were dainty little cap sleeves that didn't really cover any of my actual arm, and a low scoop neckline that exposed about a fourth of my collarbone. It looked so delicate and soft, I barely wanted to move around in it. "Costume change?"

"Pan's idea," Felix said quickly.

I furrowed my eyebrows a little, fiddling with one of the light petally things on my dress. "Where is he? Pan, I mean."

Felix rolled his eyes a little, but held a hand out for me, apparently to help me up. I stopped fiddling and took his hand cautiously, expecting him to throw me back down on the sand. He, shockingly, did no such thing and helped me to my feet. I guess he thought I might still be having trouble with my leg. My bare toes scrunched the sand beneath them as he continued to give me an irritating glare. Apparently Peter hadn't thought to give me shoes, but I liked the familiar feeling of sand beneath my feet anyway. "Pan's on business, he told me to watch you until you woke up."

"Business?" I said, flicking up an eyebrow and crossing my arms. "What sort of business, Felix?"

Felix paused, then said with a smirk, "Not. Yours."

I scrunched up my mouth in agitation. "Fine."

I turned my back to Felix and swished the sand with my feet like I was drawing something on the beach. Feeling Felix's eyes on me, I glanced back at him. He was doing the thing again. The annoying, "I know more than you, haha" thing. I had to admit, it was better than him flat out glaring at me, but it wasn't much better. I was probably going to go insane with not knowing what Pan was up to half the time before I ever got off this stupid island.

My mind wandered off to what happened in the cave as I stared out at ocean. Why was Pan-Peter acting...nice? How could that...evil, well, douche, be nice to me? Was he just trying to trick me? Most likely. Trying to make me like him? Not likely.

Still...he had looked so honest, and...normal. He had tried to help me...save me?

No-Sophie, come on. He's anything but your Prince Charming. Literally. He's the bad guy. But even bad guys have a good side. Any human does. I swallowed hard. /Nope, nope. Pan's, um, not human./

Clearly, Peter was human. Clearly, I was not ready to deal with that. And, clearly, Felix was driving me up the wall. I suddenly spun towards him. He had been picking at his fingernails, but he looked up when he saw my agitated expression.

"I saved Peter's life," I blurted out.

Felix just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

"I mean, like, he was drowning. And, I kinda kicked some mermaids and got him out, then he...he needed CPR and I just kinda, y'know, pushed on his chest and then woosh he's not dead! But I-"

"Do you care for him?" Felix interrupted.

"Do I what?" I asked sharply.

"You do, don't you?" Felix said slowly.

"What? No! I mean, if a dude was drowning, and you were the only one who could help-"

"You could have let him drown. Then you could have left the island at your will. The shadow would obey no one. But...you chose to save him," Felix said, slowly reveling in my discomfort. "You'll regret it, girl. Pan loves no one."

I caught a strange hint of bitterness at the end of Felix's words. "Slow down. I don't love him."

"But you care," Felix drawled, grinning at me. God, why did I /tell/ him?

"So I'm a half decent person for not letting the mermaids perform freaky mermaid voodoo on Peter Pan? There is literally nothing wrong with caring about whether people live or die," I snapped.

"No, especially not if you care about them."

"God, you're so...gah!" I said in exasperation, spinning back around and heading for the waves, ready to angstily kick at them.

"There are no secrets on Neverland, little girl!" Felix shouted after me.

"Shut up!" I shouted back, already kicking at the waves and walking down the beach away from him. Since when was I a little girl, anyway? /Apparently since you were here last/. I wasn't sure if I believed any of that, either. How could I have possibly brushed all this...realness, out of my head for over ten years? I could hear Felix laughing, and that just made my fists clench harder and my cheeks burn brighter. I didn't love Peter. I knew that. Even if he was the perfect Prince Charming, which he definitely was not, I could not love him after only a day. That was crazy just on its own, then you throw in the fact Peter was a complete psychopath...So what if I cared if the apparently nice guy died? So what?

So everything.

I knew that; I knew that a few, what, hours ago I would have been happy if Peter had drowned. Then I could go home, no problem. I just...I couldn't let him die. Not after, well, as cheesy as it sounded-not after he looked at me in that childish, innocent way. Maybe he was just a kid, after all. Just a big..kid, afraid of growing up and facing grown up problems. And who did that remind me of? Me. Just a little girl stuck in a stupid grown up body, trying to figure out how to do things right. Or any teenager ever, really.

Not that any of that excused what Pan was. He was crazy. That was for sure. Mentally ill. He needed some hard core therapy. But...nobody could be all evil, and Peter had already shown me that. He'd cared, too. I could tell. He didn't want me bleeding to death; I didn't want him drowning. Even. Kind of. God, I didn't know anymore.

Right then, I wished I could have somebody to talk to. Other than annoying Lost Boys who laughed at my very serious issues. My mind drifted back to...wait. Something hit me, something I should have realized as soon as I came here. I had been at a sleepover, before I woke up here. I remembered because I'd fallen asleep thinking about how Emma-Emma! Emma, she'd been in my room. What if...what if the same thing had happened to her? What if she was on the island too? Or, worse, what if she was somewhere else? Maybe she was tramping her way through Wonderland, or fighting her way out of some other fairy-tale-gone-wrong? Oh God, how could I forget? Where was she?

I raked my fingers through my hair (which had developed a weird salty texture), chewing my lip anxiously. Then..something caught my eye. Was that..a pirate ship?

"I see you're up," Peter's voice made me jump so hard I nearly fell back into the water. Peter reached out and caught my hand before I could fall. He stared at me a second, then pulled me back. I gulped, averting my eyes from his-God, had I noticed how green they were before? "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," I said very quickly. "And uh, thanks for the outfit?"

A hint of smile crossed Peter's face. "You like it?"

Why does he care? I thought questionly. "Yeah, I mean, it's beautiful."

Peter scratched at the nape of his neck, almost anxiously. "I know you don't like dresses. But, the pants didn't work out too well and I didn't know how healed you would be, and I didn't want the pants to get caught again and all-"

"Peter, it's okay. I like dresses," I said, interrupting his oddly nervous explanation. Peter smiled, a little unsurely. I smiled back as best as I could. "So, uh. What have you, um, been up to?"

Peter's face darkened, and he stared down at his boots. "I was helping one of the lost boys. Kill a deer."

"Oh. A deer?"

"Yes, a deer."

I tilted my head at him, a slow smile starting to spread across my lips. "Peter. I haven't seen one deer since I've been here."

"Well, you haven't seen much of the island yet!" Peter said defensively.

"Okay, okay! Sorry," I said, laughing as I held up my hands in surrender.

Peter stared out past me, and I turned to realize he was staring at the ship I'd seen earlier. "Peter...is that a pirate ship?"

"A-no. No. It's a hallucination, there's nothing there. Side effect of the magic I used to heal you," Peter told me very matter-of-factly.

I turned back to him. He was chewing his lip, but stopped when he saw that I noticed. I took a step closer to him. "Hallucination, huh?" Peter gulped. He was trying not to look at me. "If it was a hallucination, how did you know what I was talking about?"

Peter opened his mouth, then shut it tightly.

"What? Are you afraid of the pirates, Peter?"

"Afraid? I'm the king of Neverland! Not afraid of anything."

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"I don't like them," He said very pouty, like a little kid who didn't want to play with his little sibling.

"You don't like them?" I repeated.

"No."

"So I can't see the pirates?"

"What's to see? The captain is a one handed and has a serious drinking problem, the rest are fat and lazy..." Peter trailed off, glancing back over to the pirate ship with a strangely dark look on his face. Okay, the guy was most definitely not telling me something.

"Peter. I won't stay here unless I can see the pirates. And, you owe me," I added the last part without really thinking about it. It was true, I had saved him from becoming fish food. Or growing a tail. Either way, I'd saved him. And I wanted to see what he was trying to keep from me. Peter's jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. "Did you say the captain was one-handed? Like, Captain Hook?"

"Yeah. What's so special about him?" Peter grumbled.

I stared at him in disbelief. "He's /Captain Hook/?"

"He's rather boring, honestly. Obsessed with his dead true love, seeking revenge for over 200 years, yada yada," Peter drawled aimlessly. "There are much more interesting things to do here."

"More interesting than a heart broken pirate? That's gotta be pretty darn interesting," I scoffed. "Come on. Don't you like battling pirates? Isn't that one of your hobbies?"

"Hobby? Well, it is fun from time to time, but I don't think Captain Hook would appreciate another visit…" Peter trailed off, looking at me suddenly. I grinned. "I mean, since, last time."

"That's what you did while I was passed out? You went and talked to the pirates /without/ me?" I demanded.

"No. I merely checked up on them," Peter said quickly.

"I want to see the pirates. And I'm going to, if you're coming or not, that's your problem," I said, feeling particularly reckless for some reason. I started walking down the beach towards the ship. Peter stood there, slightly stunned. He probably wasn't used to people defying him.

I heard the splashing of his feet against the waves as he ran to catch up to me. He gripped my forearm tightly. "You can't go alone."

"Why not?" I asked defiantly, already knowing that the pirates were probably dangerous and would rather make me walk the plank then have afternoon tea. Peter's eyes flared angrily.

"Don't be stupid. They might kill you."

"They're not gonna kill me! I can swim, walking the plank wouldn't do much," I said, shaking free of his grasp and starting to walk towards the ship again. I could hear Peter let out an exasperated sigh, then he suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking my path. I did my best not to jump.

"I'm warning you, Sophie. I'm not letting you out of my sight. I can't have you messing up our deal and getting a ride off the island with that stupid pirate," He said, his jaw clenched tightly.

"So that's what you're worried about? Me making friends with the pirates?" I asked. Peter remained silent as he glared at me. "Why don't you just come with me then? Come on, it'll be an /adventure/."

I leaned down and scooped up some water from the ocean and splashed it at him. He flinched as the water hit him harmlessly. He stood perfectly still, as if he were a statue. Why was I pissing off an insanely dangerous immortal young man? I can't really say, for some reason it was very amusing. His mouth formed a tight line as he watched me splash him again. His hands formed tight fists, as he rolled his eyes. He was supposed to be a kid; didn't he know how to have fun? Then again, his version of fun was probably vastly different from mine. I frowned at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along towards the ship. He glanced down at my hand on his arm, staring at it in shock or something. I dropped his wrist quickly and looked back towards the pirate ship. Stupid, why did I do that?

Peter walked up so he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me, staring at the ship. I swallowed and didn't look at him, aware that I was just making things worse by not facing him. But I couldn't face him now, because if I did...well, I'd see some more stupid childish innocence and I'd think Peter might actually be nice again and I couldn't deal with any more of that. Nope, nope, nope. Peter was a creepy psychopath. End of story.

Then I caved and I glanced over at him. He caught my eye, and I caught his. Now I couldn't look away, and he was staring at me, and my brain felt completely blank. What on earth was going on up there? Snap out of it, Soph! He's crazy. We have established the man is barking mad, now stop thinking his eyes are pretty and he's got nice muscles that has nothing to do with the fact he has threatened you multiple times and-

"Fine. We'll go to the pirate ship, if it'll help convince you to stay."

_He wants me to stay?_ Of course he did, he always did, that was why he agreed to the deal in the first place. But before it seemed like he meant to keep me on the island to torture me for the rest of my life. Now...he was being, well, not evil. He was being gosh darn normal and it was making me want to rip out my hair over and over again. I was most definitely going to need therapy when all this was over, and possibly some anxiety pills.

_If_ it was ever over.

**Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think!**


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